Disclaimer: I still don't own this.

Hey, Does anyone else have the urge to call Casey's dad "Shooter"?

It must really blow to be you: Resolution

*****

I awake but I don't open my eyes. My head hurts and I'd rather go back to sleep. For a split second everything is okay, then I'm awake enough to remember last night and my heart clenches. I bolt upright. My eyes scan the unfamiliar surroundings. Where am I? What happened? I take in the sights of a disheveled bedroom that clearly isn't mine until my eyes fall upon it's owner. Zeke is lying on the floor, casually flipping through a magazine.

"Zeke..." My voice comes out as a shakey whisper

His eyes roll in my direction. "Hey you're up." he says, lifting himself to a sitting position.

I look to the window. The sun is shinning like any other day, totally ignorant of how fucked yesterday was. "What time is it?" I manage to mutter, my voice still making me sound like I'm not awake.

"Almost noon."

I jump out of bed. "Shit! What about school?!"

Zeke stands and grabs me by the shoulders. "Relax, Taken care of. I called your 'rents last night and told them you were sleeping here. The school will just think that you're sick or something."

"Last night..." I sink back onto the bed, holding back the tears I feel building up. "I don't even remember-" I want to say "how I got here" but I can't finish the sentence. My throat tightens.

Zeke sighs and sits next to me on the bed. "Do you wanna know?" He asks. I nod, looking at the floor so I don't have to look him in the eye.

"After I got out of detention, I found you and Stan by my car."

"Stan?!"

"Yeah. He's the one who found you before coach could. He told me that a bunch of guys from the team they" he faltered, as if he was choosing his words carefully "made you, you know-they forced you to take" Zeke shrugged and gave up "Shit, I am so sorry. It's all my fault." Zeke burried his face in his hands.

I place my hand on his back. "It's ok. I don't blame you. Not at all." It's weird seeing Zeke like this.

Zeke turns to look at me. His eyes are red but he isn't crying. "You should. I made it. It's my-" he breaks off again and stares blankly ahead of him.

"Zeke, you didn't have to help me last night but you did. You didn't have to get me and Stokes patched up but you did that too. You've helped me out more than you think. Plus, that stuff of yours did help us save the world once."

He laughs softly. "You want some aspirin or something?"

"Please? My head is killing me." I smile. He leaves the room, returning shortly with a glass of water and two white pills. I take them gratefully.

He stands accross from me and leans against the wall. "Are you ok?" he asks

"Yeah, they didn't hurt me too bad. the bruises will go away in a couple days."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. I was just really trying not to think about it." I stare out the window again. Zeke isn't saying anything just giving me time. "It really sucks me being me sometimes but last night...it hurts..the humiliation, the pain, the hate...I'm scared almost all the time, wondering when someone will push me too far, until I either snap or break."

"You're stronger than you think, Casey."

I stare at him. "Is it always going to be like this?"

Zeke smiles sardonically "Just until graduation. Kids in public schools are always labelled. Since first grade we've had our parts to play. I've always been the guy who can get you stuff, Stan was always a jock, team or not, and Deliliah's always been ms. popularity. It all depends on our first day of school. There's no escaping it. Not until we graduate, move far away from here to someplace nobody knows your name, then you can be who you are."

"What if I get out there and don't know who I am anymore?"

"Then you make yourself. You make yourself who you are, everyday. You decide it."

I smile again, an honest grin. "day at a time, huh? What are you, a poet?"

Zeke smiles back "sometimes."

"Keep your day job, then." I mutter.

He ignores the comment and digs through a pile of clothes until he pulls out the remote for his cd player. Zeke gestures to the cd player. "Rasputina," he informs me. As the song starts, I think. I know he's right. It's not like there's anything I can do to make this stop. Not on my own. I just have to deal with it until graduation. One day at a time.

"against my will it hurts me still it really stings they clipped my wings what could I do? everything's new how my knees lock how will I walk? now that they're gone I feel strong I say ooh, they did get in my way so I will learn to walk today." -Rasputina "clipped"

*****

ya know this chapter kinda seems to me like a mix of speeches from the Shawshank Redemption, Ghost World, and A Clockwork Orange. Well, that's it. Hope you liked, sorry if you didn't. My muse is forcing me to move on to other genres. So far I have a couple things planned, an x-men fic, An lotr parody, and I need to start some Poison Elves fiction cause this site has *none*. Thanks for reading!!